Beautiful
by r'n'rb
Summary: There was a doll like gesture to the way his cupids bow mouth lifted infinitesimally in response to the words from her cherry drop lips. The were both so beautiful. Oneshot.


**Beautiful**

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They were both beautiful. Pale skin stretched artfully over bone so angled, so chiselled it was almost painful to behold. There was a doll like quality to the way his cupids bow mouth lifted infinitesimally in response to the words from her cherry drop lips. Painted porcelain, cream complexion, hair to die for and eyelashes so long, so gracefully arched that each flutter stop a heart in its path.

"Your face should be in magazines" they told her, catwalks, runways, and studios...a photographers dream. But she had been too busy tracing the flaws in her family history to notice.

"You should be in the movies" they told him "you belong on the screen; you could be a star boy". His golden hair, his angel face had Hollywood all but begging at his doorstep. But he had been too busy wading through a sea of booze and prescription pills, trying to find his mother before she drowned.

They were both beautiful. To the unobservant eye their beauty was a gift, a cushion through the falls of life; something to coast on through high school, relationships, and any form of social interaction. The ugly stain of the home life did not tarnish the skin: He glowed despite having spent the previous night cleaning up his mothers vomit. She glowed despite having spent the previous night cleaning up her mother's vomit. Perhaps a question or two about the whisper of an under eye circle and the ghost of bags but a flutter of dark eyelashes and a twist of cherry stained lips and all questions were forgotten.

They were both beautiful. But somewhere along the way large doe eyes and mysterious red smiles became a hindrance instead of an advantage. Somewhere along the way the option of modeling or acting became not a compliment but a twisted sneer and a barely veiled "get out".

"You don't belong here" they told her. "Go back to your cheerleading and nail painting; med school is for serious people only". It was then she decided to shut her mouth and tighten her vest. She had always been intensely private but now the shell had hardened to armour. Mascara was applied if only to prove that she was above all of it.

"You don't belong here" they told him. "Go away while you've still got it. Join a frat house, that's more yours style isn't buddy? Girls and booze? Med school is for seriously people only" It was then he had learned to shut his mouth and walk away. Part of him wondered why he hadn't done it sooner and then it became all too easy to detach and walk away until it didn't bother him in the slightest.

They were both beautiful. But it came as no surprise that the hospital would treat them no different than a class room. Shining hair, glowing skin and an illuminating smile did nothing to impress the patient who was bruised and swollen from head to toe. A forever flawless face did nothing to help befriend the nurses and doctors who hadn't slept in three days and were covered in several bodily fluids from several bodies. Being a cut above university their colleagues were less prone to outright contempt, but it was apparent in the dirty looks and snide comments by the water cooler. Conversation and words of jealously, dislike and social segregation followed their footsteps: she pursed her lips, and he quickened his pace. The workplace however, was full of distractions and the festering wounds of childhood and friendless lives were easily remedied with the constant buzz of sickness and patients and needles and pills and pills and pills.

Unlike his colleagues House was not as subtle.

" Let's see if the pretty girl can actually name the right organ before it's like time to like go home and like watch the OC" House had poked her with his cane countless times ,each time that much closer to her ass. Just because he knew it would bug her and just because he knew she was too stubborn to say anything to stop him.

" Lets see if pretty boy over here can actually do something to prove he didn't sleep his way through the final exams." House had made countless jabs at his hair, his accent and the way he avoided confrontation like the plague. House had tried to spark fights again and again, just because he knew he would step aside and walk away, just because House knew that part of him still wanted to stay and fight.

They were both beautiful. Hospitals and patients were the ultimate escape, hours upon hours spent focused solely on a case, on helping another person. It was only in the few moments that they slid, exhausted into bed that they wondered if they spent time helping others to avoid helping themselves. They were beautiful, but they were cold.

They were both so beautiful, it was almost inevitable that they would end up together, pressed tightly against one another on her musty mattress, in her dark apartment. His soft hands would trace, and cup her flawless body while her manicured nails would scratch perfect lines down his back. They would sweat as he thrust but it would be odourless, a light sheen upon glowing skin. And as both their faces tilted backwards as they cried out, their eyes would meet see a person so tired, stained and broken reflected back at them. And then the understanding would pass and they would be left panting and flushed, not a hair out of place.

They were both so beautiful. In another life they would have been perfect. Smooth hands clasped at the altar; shining rings, shining faces. Their beautiful lips would mouth "I do" and then meet in a wondrous union of soft and pink. They would turn to their audience of friends and family and a hush would fall until the first flashbulb went off and then there were angelic smiles and pictures and hugs and kisses to bestow, and all the while their hands would never part. In another life they would have been beautiful, enviable with a spotless house, beautiful adoring children and enough time for Friday night dinner parties, coveted alone time together, and anniversaries celebrated each month just because.

They were both beautiful. But there was a delicacy and fragility beneath their heard exteriors. Her heart shaped face and rosy cheeks didn't discount the fact that she was waiting to die. His smooth skin and angelic smile couldn't discard the fact that he had been saving up pills for his final walk away.

They were both beautiful. Pale skin stretched artfully over bone so angled, so chiselled it was almost painful to behold. There was a doll like quality to the way his cupids bow mouth lifted infinitesimally in response to the words from her cherry drop lips. Painted porcelain, cream complexion, hair to die for and eyelashes so long, so gracefully arched that each flutter stop a heart in its path.

They were both so beautiful. It was almost too easy to be entranced and to forget. But there was a painful reminder that lingered in their eyes. So large, blue and lined with thick lashes, but so cold and so empty.

They were both beautiful.

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It's cliche but I have a thing for the beautiful and tragic. And speaking of which it's tragic that the beautiful Jesse Spencer isn't getting more airtime. =)

I'm not sure if I could ever see 13 and Chase together on the show, ( I actually love Chase/Cam) but on paper and in theory there is something similar and beautiful about the two.

if you have any thoughts or comments at all, please drop a review. It'll make my day.

-A


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